


I Don't Need Another Addiction

by Bloodysyren



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU, As it should be, Backstage Pass, Concert, Corpse is a singer, First Time Meeting, M/M, Sweet at first, They're not real people, headcannon, one black coffee, rain and coffee, vip treatment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-26 22:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30112752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodysyren/pseuds/Bloodysyren
Summary: AU Headcannon! I don't ship the real people, just their internet personas!Corpse is the lead singer in a band. Sy gets dragged to a concert by his friends and they have backstage passes. During the after party Sy has a run in with Corpse and can't seem to get the dark-haired Adonis with the voice of the devil out of his head. Is it fate?
Relationships: Corpse Husband/Sykkuno (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 137





	1. Is this Fate or Something Stronger?

**Author's Note:**

> It feels so good to write again! It's been like a fucking year! Thank you for being so patient with me, UwU!

Sy sidled a little closer to his friends who were chatting and laughing in a tight circle on the floor of the darkening club. He wasn't so sure about this idea anymore. He hated crowds and really disliked being dragged into busy places by his friends. But in the end he usually had fun, so he guessed it wasn't all bad.

A cheer rose up from the crowd and he shifted his gaze towards the stage. A group of really cool-looking guys dressed all in black with toothy evil-looking face masks were moving towards various instruments and doing some last-minute tuning. The cheer rose to a deafening roar as the lead singer stepped out on stage and up to the mic, part of his face obscured by a mask that looked like the brain child of Bioshock and Donnie Darko with a splash of The Birthday Massacre thrown in for good measure. The stage was awash in violet light. Sy sighed inwardly, just wanting this evening to be over. And then his ears perked up,

"How's everybody doing tonight?" The singer's deep drawl washed over him in a lusty wave and everyone around him was yelling and screaming in response. The singer let out a low throaty chuckle and Sy was suddenly riveted. The music started and he was now so glad that he was here. The lyrics were clear and low, allowing him to catch nearly every word:

Love is just trouble

You and I make it double

Love me like you hate me

Feelin' so sick

Bile rising, hot and thick

Gotta get you outta me

This love is only breaking me

Sy's eyes were glazing over. The lyrics were true and dark. He felt every word like an open wound, 

You love me for all the wrong reasons

Can't get you outta my head

Your voice is a loaded gun

Swallow me down

Like those pills, like that D

I churn inside you

Like a knife, sharp in soft

Twisting brutally.

He was thinking darker thoughts, but they weren't unwelcome. The bodies around him churned and twisted to the bass of the music as the singer started another song,

Don't mistake my kindness for compassion

I'll eat you up

Your sweet disease,

Gasping in lust

I'm poison

I'm danger

Dark colors

New strangers

New friends become lovers

Old lovers, new anchors

The weight is a cage

My sight hazed and faded

Will death break these chains?

The only lover I crave

From the bottom of my grave.

There was a tightness in Sy's chest as the words flowed around him, suggestive and sultry, begging him closer to the edge of what felt like madness,

"Come on, babe,

Lemme get that hot dick."

Back off, bitch

My brain's bigger than your fake tits

I'm not just a piece of meat

Here to make your lips wet

I've got more inside my mind

Than just your thighs wrapped around my head

Thirsty for some deep touch,

Eager for my long licks.

The music was dark and moody, the bass was deep and thrumming, and Sy felt let down when the concert finally ended.

Jack elbowed him jocularly and pushed a card into his open palms, dragging him with the milling crowd and pushing towards the front of the stage, going against the tide. The beefy bouncer looked so intimidating as Sy presented his card to the guy and he stepped aside, letting Sy pass into the dimly lit hallway, down into the bowels of the club, towards backstage.

There were beautiful people everywhere. The greenroom was huge and packed. Sy felt the cold chill of uncertainty flood his veins like ice and looked around. The high-pitched hum of voices seemed louder in here than on the dance floor and he kicked himself again for letting his friends drag him into another situation like this.

"You look like you've lost someone." A purring voice wafted above him and Sy turned as if he was facing a lion in its den,

"Well, you see, I don't really know anyone here, so..." Sy almost leapt out of his skin. The singer, clad all in black, and still wearing that disturbing mask, towered over him. Sy had to bite his tongue to stop himself from yelping in surprise.

"My name's Corpse...So, now you know someone." That rough laugh slithered into Sy's ears and the slighter man couldn't keep himself from blushing.

"Sy-kun!" Rae ran towards Sy, with a drink in one hand and an already sloshed Jack in the other. Sy waved as they skidded to a stop in front of him.

"Hey Corpse." She twittered as Jack's eyes tried to focus blearily, "We were just headed to the restroom, gonna try and get some water in this one before all of his blood turns to booze." She laughed and pulled Jack away, and Sy was left alone again with the singer. He felt like they were the only two people in the world and they had absolutely nothing to talk about. This was so mortifying.

"I uh- I liked the show. You've...umm...got some really interesting lyrics..." He had to say something to break the tension. Corpse grunted in acknowledgement and scanned the crowd.

"Man, I hate big gatherings like this." The singer mused, that deep resonant voice echoed in Sy's chest like an earthquake.

"Me too. I always just want to stay home with a blanket and a good book."

"I wish it would rain all of the time so I wouldn't have to deal with people." The singer's voice sounded so melancholy and far away. The one eye that Sy could see was electric blue beneath a shock of curly black hair.

"Because you like people but you don't _like_ people, right?" He sounded more nervous than he felt because the conversation was actually progressing, but Sy wished that he was back home, in the comfort and silence of his own room,

"I don't like people." Corpse said flatly.

"Oh..." Sy felt defeated. It sounded as if Corpse was including him in that sentence and it made his heart sink. Why was he feeling like this? It had been five minutes and already he was feeling this tightness in his chest. His mind was racing with all of the things that he could never bring himself to say, even to himself.

A bubbly girl in a short dress flounced over to Corpse and gripped his arm, pressing herself against him. Her dress was too low and too high and she tottered on her heels like a baby giraffe. Sy had to look away so that he could stifle his laughter as a yawn, covering his mouth gingerly. The girl was pleading with the singer, dragging him away into the crowd. Corpse caught Sy's eye and blinked. The slighter man couldn't tell if it was a normal involuntary movement or a wink because of the mask, but he caught the faint flutter of a knowing smile and Corpse muttered,

"See you around."

And then Sy was left alone again. Standing by himself in a crowded room full of strangers. Waiting for his friends to take him home.


	2. Talking About Rain Over Coffee

Sy wrapped his hands around his tea cup. The heavy porcelain was a comforting weight in his palms as the hot liquid seeped down his throat. He had found a secluded corner of the coffee shop to read and unwind as rain lashed the windows, begging entrance like a shameless Disney villain. He was just turning back to his book when he heard a familiar voice, deep and sultry, across the room,

"One black coffee, please."

Sy's head shot up. He scanned the coffee shop and there, standing menacingly shy at the counter, dressed like a walking nightmare in faded black jeans and an elegantly ratty hoodie, was Corpse.

The young man thought that the brief encounter he had backstage at the concert a few weeks ago would be the last time he would ever see the lanky singer. He was honestly secretly hoping that he would never come across Corpse again. Sy didn't think he could deal with all of the churning, pent up feelings that he had been having about the dark-haired, icy-eyed singer.

Corpse turned and caught Sy's gaze. That one exposed eye narrowed in what Sy hoped was a relatively easygoing smile. The rest of Corpse's face was obscured by that shaggy mop of hair and a grinning mask of printed wolfish teeth. Sy swallowed his quickly-cooling tea as the singer shambled over. Sy straightened as the taller man stopped in front of his table.

"Hey." Corpse's deep voice slithered into Sy's ears again like an old lover, enticing and low.

"Uh..Hey." Sy shifted in his chair, side-eyeing the empty seat next to him in the shadowed corner.

"I hope I'm not intruding." That husky drawl was setting Sy's nerves on edge. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end. Man, this guy was a walking, talking one-man haunted house. Sy shrugged and finally found his own voice,

"Of course not. As long as you don't mind the dark." He was trying to sound witty, but to his own ears, he just sounded lame. He sighed inwardly and closed his book with a resigned slap. It's not that he resented Corpse's presence, quite the opposite actually. He didn't even mind having to put his reading on pause.

It was just...

He had been trying to secretly deal with all of these roguish thoughts recently. And the cause of every single one of them was now sitting less than five feet from him, drinking a black coffee that smelled like it came from the tar pits of Hell.

"I actually prefer the dark..." Corpse said in a contemplative tone. Sy grew quiet.

"How have you been? The last time I saw you was at the get-together after the show, right?" That searching blue eye bored into Sy's kind dark ones and the slighter man's mind shot back to turning around and seeing this tall, leggy, intimidating guy. Sy thought that he was going to be eaten alive.

"Yeah, uh...my friends actually dragged me along, backstage, I mean. Well, to the concert too. Not that I didn't want to go, I mean..." Sy trailed off and a light chuckle met his ears. He looked up from staring into his teacup and Corpse was reclining back in his chair, that black coffee left untouched on the table.

"I heard from a friend that you come here sometimes to study. Sorry if I barged in on your alone time." Corpse was so well-spoken. His voice was soothing and made something flare in Sy's chest.

"No, it's no problem. This was mostly a free day for me, so..." Sy gestured to his light-reading material and felt the sting of a blush heating his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I just realized that I don't actually know your name. It's Sy, right? I heard from Rae." Corpse ran a hand through his hair and avoided Sy's gaze. Seemed that he was just as nervous as Sy felt.

"Gimmie just a sec." Corpse stood up and walked over to the drink station to fill the remainder of his cup with milk and sugar. He came back stirring and chuckling,

"I just realized that this all sounds really bad. Like I'm stalking you or something. It's not like that. I just happen to live nearby and when Rae said that you come here to study, I was really excited because I used to come here all of the time, but a few years ago I kinda had a thing and it messed me up a bit, so I don't get out much."

"It's no problem." Sy waved away the awkwardness with a flap of his hand, "I was actually meaning to ask about the..." Sy pointed at his mouth and Corpse's eyes narrowed in a smile again.

"The mask? I've been sick recently. And I have this...thing...about...people. Seeing my face..." Corpse trailed the last part off self-consciously.

"Oh, I didn't mean to..."

"No, it's ok. I mean, it's my problem, right? Something I have to deal with eventually." Corpse lifted his mask to take a quick sip of his adulterated coffee.

"I guess so." Sy agreed. He did feel bad though. What kind of thing would you have to go through where you wanted to hide your face from people? Sickness? Disfigurement? Something else? Either way, he didn't want to pry and tried to change the subject,

"So, uh...when's your next concert?"

"Oh yeah, that's the other reason I was hoping to run into you. It's early next month, at the BrickTop, and if you were free, you know, I'll save you a ticket if you want."

"Sure."

The rain was nearly deafening and wind rattled the old-style windows of the shop. Sy glanced outside and Corpse took another swig of his coffee.

"Didn't you say last time that you loved rain the most so that you didn't have to deal with people."

"Yeah. Still true." Corpse's lazy drawl put Sy at his ease. It made Sy think that he was the only one that Corpse wanted to talk to. That Sy was the most interesting person in the entire world to Corpse right now.

"Then why are you here, around people?" Sy let a playful smirk lie across his mouth and Corpse met those dark eyes with a matching look,

"I ran out of coffee at my place." There was that normal, cheeky giggle that was the polar opposite of the singer's devilish timbre. Corpse's voice was low; it invited you in. As if he would keep all of your secrets. There was a loyalty and a sinister quality to the singer's tone that made you want to let him get away with so much.

Sy focused on the sound of the rain for a moment and realized that he wouldn't mind letting Corpse get away with something. But what, exactly?


	3. We All Have Our Secrets

Sy parked in the lot behind the venue. He had intended to pay the clerk but the guy who took his name passed him a ticket to put in his dash and waved him through. He stuffed the twenty back into his wallet and locked his car. He sidled up to the ticket line and gave the teller his name. The guy checked his list and radioed for security. Sy nearly bolted.

Was he in trouble? Had his card been declined? Was he going to be arrested for fraud right here in front of the concert with hundreds of tough-looking people watching? He glanced around nervously until a burly-looking bouncer escorted him through the heavy front doors. They clanged shut behind him and his heart sank. He felt like he was walking to his own judgment. The guard led him through another set of double doors and down a long concrete hallway. He recognized the familiar smell of stale cigarette smoke and old beer.

He wrinkled his nose in distaste as the guard pushed open a door to the dressing room. Sy stepped into the harsh lights and the door once again shut behind him with a definitive slam. Man, this place really had a thing for finality, Sy thought as his eyes adjusted. The six people in the room grew quiet and Sy suddenly felt very observed.

"Whaddup, baby?" Corpse's casual tone wrapped around Sy securely, instantly easing his nerves. He was quickly realizing that this man was taking over more than just his thoughts. Sy shuffled forward and Corpse introduced him to the rest of the band. They all wore that familiar mask comprised of grinning demonic smiles.

Corpse was dressed in a tight white v-neck t-shirt that fit him perfectly and was making Sy salivate. Every smooth muscle was deliciously defined and Sy realized that he was suddenly starving. That skullbunny mask would be in Sy's dreams tonight, he was sure of it.

"Help yourself to whatever. They always give us way too much." The singer motioned to the gratuitous spread of food and drinks against the far wall and Sy shakily poured himself a glass of water and nibbled on some random assortment of fruit.

"Yeah, who do they think they're feeding," the drummer chimed in, "The fucking San Francisco Symphony Orchestra?" That got a laugh out of the two guitarists and Corpse reclined languidly on the couch, spreading his arm across the back casually,

"I'm glad you could come, Sy." Corpse droned, swigging from a water bottle with a Bad Bitch sticker up the side. The others were covered by his fingers, pale and powerful-looking. Sy choked down the rest of his water.

"Thanks for inviting me. I was really scared when a guard came out to get me. They're so scary-looking." He tugged a hand through his hair and stared at his shoes.

"They're all a bunch of fucking softies." Another band member groaned. A loud knock came through the door and a sound guy poked his head in to say that they had lights up in 30. Corpse stood up and stretched. Sy couldn't help himself. He stared, unabashed and hungry, at that milky strip of skin while he had the chance and quickly averted his gaze when it was clear that he was intruding on the band's warm up time.

"Sy, talk to the bouncer about the VIP lounge upstairs. I'll see you after the show, k?" Sy mumbled something nervously that even he couldn't make out and excused himself. The security guy showed him to the mezzanine level and he had a bird's eye view of the stage from the balcony. Closing his eyes as the band warmed up, he lay on his back on a low red velvet bench and listened to the deep resonant timbre of Corpse's voice.

There was so much that Sy didn't know about the singer. There was a lot that he thought that he didn't want to know. You should never know everything about someone, right? We all have our secrets. But there was so much that he wanted to know. At the moment he was wishing that he could figure out how Corpse felt about him. The singer seemed shy and flirty at the same time. Corpse seemed to like girls well enough, but guys also seemed to be on his radar. Not that that was a problem. For crying out loud, Sy was sitting alone in the VIP section, participating in his own self-psychoanalysis about a guy he had met exactly twice.

The concert was a lot more enjoyable than the last one. He felt safer being surrounded by a dozen people rather than two hundred. And Sy felt more secure up in the rafters than down with the milling crowds, spilling cheap beer on each other and constantly jostling for space. He could definitely get used to this. The theatre slowly filtered out as the concert ended and Sy trippingly made his way back down the plush carpeted stairs to the backstage door.

The guard pushed open the door for him and he found his way back to the green room. There was the band, sweaty and excitable, with Corpse in the middle, his easy laugh reaching Sy's ears through the din like a lasso. Corpse waved Sy over and he tentatively stood on the edge of the group,

"Hey! Did you like the show?" Sy didn't even need to answer. Corpse's genuine smile was infectious and Sy cracked a fresh one of his own. The other band members were packing up and slinging bags and jackets over their shoulders.

"Hey boss, wanna catch some late-night grub? How about that diner down the street? Donny's or whatever it's called?"

"Sure, if you want. Sy, you in?" Sy jumped at his name and nodded, almost without even thinking. Corpse could have said that they should go bungee jumping next week and Sy would have been startled into agreeing. The crew pushed through the stage doors out into the open air and the crisp chill of the night reinvigorated Sy immensely.

What was he getting himself into?


	4. Will Suck Dick for Waffles

Sy shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as they all trudged through the chill night air towards Donny's. He followed obediently behind Corpse and a few of the other band members. The drummer, Sy thought he had heard that the guy's name was Karl, had fallen into step beside him.

"Hey, it was Sy right?" Karl, a tall blond in ratty jeans with his sticks in his back pocket, stared down at Sy as they walked.

"Yeah." Sy was trying to look in Karl's direction without eating it on the uneven pavement.

"So, how do you know Corpse?" Karl's tone was jovial and friendly.

"Oh, uh...through a friend." Sy answered, keeping the trio in front of him under nervous surveillance. How did he let himself be talked into this? It was like being surrounded by a bunch of half-known celebrities. And it didn't make Sy feel cool, just more awkward and shy than he already was.

Sy was thankful for the warm gust of air that blew through the door of the diner that one of the other members was holding open for everyone. A waitress led them to their table and Sy was still lost in conversation with Karl. His ears prickled as Corpse's voice floated across the table,

"Whose dick do I have to suck to get a fucking waffle around here?" Corpse muttered cheekily under his breath, the mask distorting his voice even further. Karl snorted a laugh, but all Sy caught was the word 'waffle'. His mouth opened before he had even registered,

"I would make all of the waffles for you, Corpse." Sy smiled good naturedly, but that just brought on another burst of laughter from the rest of the group. Sy blushed and looked confused as Corpse raised a sharp, dark eyebrow in his direction, the only one that Sy could see easily,

"Oh, so it's yours? Yes please." That sly chuckle sent a shiver up Sy's spine and the table erupted in giggles again.

"Hm? What?! What's so funny? I just said I would make Corpse waffles..." Sy mumbled something into his hands, taking long greedy swallows of his ice water to stop the blush on his cheeks from spreading.

It was late. The darkness made Corpse feel a little bolder. It was so adorable to watch Sy squirm in embarrassment. But he was always wondering how far was too far? Would this seemingly light, teasing exchange be the one that scared Sy off? Or the next one? Or the next? Corpse smirked and turned back to his bandmate, hoping that this wouldn't be the last night that he got to spend around the adorable guy with the sparkling shy eyes.

They all placed their orders to the waitress, who, thankfully remembered them from the last after-concert hang out that they had had and didn't freak when she heard Corpse's voice. She just jotted down their orders and jokingly told him to lay of all of the black coffee. Karl made some jab at Corpse's expense and the singer flipped him the bird.

Sy 's cheeks felt warm. He had never sworn in his life, let alone made any rude gestures. He knew a lot about that kind of stuff, but he was so afraid of making enemies or making anyone upset at him that he was the picture of respect. Being around these guys who were all swearing like sailors and joking around made him nervous and excited all at once. He felt accepted and excluded simultaneously, as if he was on the outside of a cage filled with wild tigers all roughhousing with each other. He was the shy observer; the timid prey.

The meal finally ended and Sy walked back with them to the venue, the air seemed even colder after having been inside for what seemed like hours. Karl was trying to get a piggyback ride from their lead guitarist while the bassist made crass jokes. Corpse hung back and fell in step with Sy, who was trailing well behind the roughhousing guys for fear of being stepped on.

"Hey, uh..." Corpse's face was hidden from view by his mask and that curtain of wavy black hair as they walked side by side, "Sorry about that jab earlier. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Hm? Oh, no, it's nothing. I uh...didn't even really hear what you had said, so it's fine."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't hear what I did say, or else you probably would have died of embarrassment." The singer's chuckle seemed serious and apologetic all at once.

"Now I kind of want to know. All I remember was something about waffles."

"It's nothing, I’ll tell you later." Corpse said hurriedly, a smile in his voice as they said their goodbyes and Sy got into his car, feeling flustered and not a little bit confused.


	5. Shower Thoughts

It was pouring outside Corpse's window. His whole apartment was shut up, but the rain was a persistent visitor. He was sitting in the dark, the light of his phone blinking as texts came in every few minutes. But he didn't want to answer. He was preoccupied and chilly.

He hugged the blanket tighter around him and rested his head on his folded arms.

Hours later, the storm was still raging outside. Corpse woke up blearily in the half-light of the early morning. He was sprawled out on his bed, the blanket half-thrown off. He felt sticky and chilly simultaneously. He kicked off the blanket and stripped out of his grungy hoodie and sweats.

Padding naked to the bathroom, he turned on the water, scalding and comforting. He kept the lights off and stepped into the spray. The water cascaded over his folded arms and he watched absentmindedly as the drops trickled off of his arms. He just stood there, drenched and completely lost in thought.

Thinking about Sy.

How he first met the skinny guy; as slender as a bean pole. Those large, dark doe eyes as he turned towards Corpse, hearing the singer's deep, sultry voice that either made people shake in fear or lust. But Sy seemed so casual after getting over his initial shock of having Corpse looming over him like some sort of mythical doom obelisk.

Sy was the first person in a long, long time who wasn't completely shocked into silence by Corpse's voice. The young man actually held a decent conversation with him. And it was the first conversation in a long time that didn't end in some sort of sexual proposition or favor. God, people were so damn thirsty these days. It was really starting to get on Corpse's nerves.

He ran his hands through his hair and rinsed off the shampoo, loving the stinging embrace of the spray. It was so comforting. It helped him think and relax.

His mind flitted back to the day at the coffee shop. He honestly wasn't expecting to run into Sy there. Honestly. He had just heard from Rae that Sy studied there sometimes and Corpse had gone just to grab a cup of dark life-giving liquid. But he had turned away from the counter and the dark-haired boy sitting there so unassumingly just leapt out at him.

And they talked. They actually talked. And Corpse was quickly realizing that he was starting to fall head-over-heels in adoration for this adorable boy. Corpse was so happy that Sy actually showed up for the show. He was really hoping that he didn't come off as strong as he felt like he was.

But then Corpse had to go and say that thing about waffles. He let an adorable chuckle slip to the empty bathroom. God, that was such a stupid thing to say. And he thanked every god that Sy didn't catch his words. Would he ever have the courage to actually tell Sy what he had said?

Probably not.

Corpse finally shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a towel and wiped his face, relishing the darkness and warmth of the fluffy fabric.

He guessed it was time to actually put on some real clothes.

And trudge down to the coffee shop to see if his new brain-obsession was reading studiously and ready for some distraction.


End file.
